


You’ll Need Those Fingers For Crossing

by Bb_m8



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: (very scandalous I know), ASL, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Feels, Din Djarin is a good fucking dad, Dumb Twink Luke Skywalker, I am though, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Luke is good about helping everyone other than himself, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mentioned Padmé Amidala, Rating May Change, Single Parent Din Djarin, Sorry Not Sorry, Sort Of, Star Wars Alternate Universe - No Force, Substance Abuse, Tags May Change, Tutoring, idk we’ll see what happens, references to teen drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:55:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29578506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bb_m8/pseuds/Bb_m8
Summary: Luke is Exhausted, unmotivated, and feels out of touch with his place in the world. While trying to find that answer, he runs into someone who needs help with their problems- and might solve his own in the process.AKA a modern day College AU because I want to see Din in a school setting
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

It was a pleasant Thursday, late morning. Walking around the campus, one could expect to hear the twang of various guitars playing the same few songs. There were small groups of students mingling, a few stragglers reading their textbooks in a parallel position. The sky was a bright blue, a few clouds lining the sky to keep the temperature from getting too hot.

Luke Skywalker was exhausted. He was well aware he had a flair for the dramatic, but he felt he was allowed to complain every once and a while about the mundane that has become his everyday life.

It was his first week of the semester, but all his classes were annoyingly ready to get a start on the coursework. Sure, he had slightly more complex classes than the average college-goer, but does every single class need to discuss the importance of internships and group projects 4 days in? Luke hoped by choosing a community college to get groundwork on his career, he was hoping to find simplicity in both finances and overbearing workload- he’s 3 years in, though, and not much could be said about the success of the latter part. 

Sometimes, he felt his professors were just as clueless about his major as he was. Nearly every odd question he asked- ones he didn’t think were half bad, like “why don’t we question parents more frequently on their child’s readiness to start school?” Or “how can we ensure every student has a safe space to work, even when there’s a non-convenient process to it?”- was met with a stiff shake of the head, or an empty promise to talk more on it during office hours. Luke could only handle so much of this bold-faced rejection before it affected his motivation.

Luke checks his phone for the time as he steps out of his Psych class, and begins a speed-walk towards the cafeteria, one which students almost exclusively ignore out of shared horrors of the high-school lunchroom experience. If he was quick enough getting there he could grab a bite to eat and a spot for him and Leia before she arrived. Luke knew by now she wasn’t going to show for about another 15 minutes, as she had far less free time than he did. The chronic overachiever had not only managed to test into one of the swankiest schools in town, but she also committed to maxing out her credits, as well as shovelling in a year-long internship with the State Senator on top of that. Senator Amidala might’ve been their mother, but she was known for being ruthless when it came to politics and expected every member of her team to perform in the same fashion.

Luke smiles fondly at the thought of his mother, one foot planted firmly on the coffee table, all but ripping her shoes off at the end of the day, shouting about such-and-so senator refusing to comply on such-and-so regulations, eyes on fire at the thought of blatant injustices laid out in the secrecy of private offices, behind closed doors. She’d always end her rants with a lesson- always something along the lines of the importance of equity, treating everyone how they deserve to be.

His short memory trip is abruptly ended by the loud and painful union of his face to the cafeteria’s glass door. He sputters, a deep red coloring his cheeks, as he shoots down to paw at his grounded array of books and loose papers. He curses the door makers at their need to make both push and pull doors without providing sufficient evidence of differentiating the two. 

He makes a quick damage control check, and with the lack of anyone guffawing at his blunder, he pulls the door open with the force of someone needing an avengement of power. Luke scans the room for potential seats and pauses. There aren't a lot of people by any means- a couple canoodling in the corner, a few loners trying to eat in peace. There is one person in particular, though, who seems to be the only person not preoccupied. Stuck in a half standing, half seated position, like he’s unsure if his help is needed or not. Upon realization that the stranger absolutely saw his battle with the door, Luke’s blush returns twofold. The man sits and ducks his head down, maybe to help Luke save face, but he isn’t sure. Luke coughs, rushes to an open table, and fiddles with his hair for lack of sufficient distraction from his own humiliation. He shuffles around for his phone, checks the time, and looks towards the door. Leia’s late, and he’s stuck sitting alone with nothing to do. He frowns slightly, his eyes scan the room once more, finding their way back to his witness. The man- all but crowded against the wall closest to the entrance- keeps flitting his eyes between the work on his table, the door, and Luke. They make eye contact, and Luke gives a small, tentative wave to the masked man. The stranger startles, and Luke starts to move his hand in a recovery-style hair toss, but stops when he sees the man sign towards him in question-  _ YOU, OK? _

Luke, surprised at first, can’t stop the giggle that forms at the bottom of his chest, nerves swelling up.  _ It couldn’t have been that bad, right?  _ He chews at his lip. The witness reforms the question, trying to elaborate but unable to remember the right signals. He sighs and points to his forehead. Luke, at a loss, goes to mirror the man’s action and feels a spring of pain forming at the contact point. His eyes widen in despair, he scrambles for his phone camera, finding a large, red welt on the very center of his forehead.  _ Great- another thing he’d have to explain to Leia, and another thing she can poke fun at him for.  _ He tiredly swipes his hand down his face and signs back with a quick-  _ YES, GOOD, THANK YOU.  _ Rolls his eyes to convey his annoyance.

The man gives a stunned, curt nod, looks like he’s trying to piece together another response, but it never comes- the wretched door swings open and in comes his sister.

“Luke!” Leia makes a bee-line for him, pulling Luke in for a tight embrace, warm and slightly damp from her brisk jog from the Senator’s office to his college campus. “Oh, my stars, Luke, have I missed you-“ she pulls her head back in an attempt to shower his cheek with kisses (deliberately done to embarrass him, no doubt) but is met with a gentle push so they're standing at arm's length.

Luke chuckles, “ _ Missed me?  _ Leia, we see each other every morning, how can you miss me?” He rubs her shoulders and faces the witness to sign a quick apology. He loved his sister dearly, but she had the very same headstrong, boisterous presence as their mother. His casual conversations were routinely interrupted, and he was well versed on how to recover from it by now. He stops short, though, finding only an empty seat where the masked stranger once was. He tilts his head in confusion, eyes searching for the man’s possible exit path. He sighs to himself as Leia sits them both down, already halfway into their mid-morning routine of meaningless gossip.

“I’m well aware we live together, Luke, but when I say I’ve had a shitty day, I really mean it feels like a  _ month  _ has pas-“ she stops when her eyes reach the top of his face. He rolls his eyes, knowing what she’ll say before the words come out. “Luke. What did you do to your forehead?”

The week drags on in a hectic yet uneventful fashion. Every one of his professors wants proof of his teaching abilities- and he gets it. He really does. What’s the point in teaching if you’re bad at it? He just wishes he could find something more convenient to his personal schedule. He glares at the computer screen in front of him and tries to focus on the task at hand, but he knows deep down that he’s already mentally checked out of his coursework. Who needs math anyway? He groans and logs out of the computer as scathingly as he can muster- maybe if he shoved his head into a couple of books he could focus. Or enough cushion to nap for the next 30 minutes. He packs up his papers and treks the short distance between the lab and the study lounge.

The lounge is busy, as usual, and Luke desperately scans the room for any signs of upcoming departures. Unfortunately, this round of students seem to be extremely engrossed in their work- he’s not getting a solo table anytime soon. He slumps down as he walks towards the only table left that isn’t heavily habited, save for someone in a dark leather-clad hoodie, hunched over their work and in deep concentration. 

His face lights up in recognition as he gets closer- the vaguely familiar frame and style of the Witness, if memory serves correct. Luke takes a chance and bounds over to the still masked man. “Hey!” He pipes out as loud as he can without disturbing everyone around him. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” The man doesn’t regard him. He gulps. “Hey man, I’m sorry about my sister. She’s a peach, but definitely a loud one” Luke places his hand on the table, and the startled look the man gives him has him quickly retraces his steps. It clicks, but too late for Luke to save face-  _ how could he have been so stupid?  _ The man must be deaf, or at least hard of hearing- why else would he be trying to sign to him in the cafeteria? Luke, fluorescent red, signs a shaky apology and goes to repeat his original question. 

Witness looks at his hands, furrows his brow in something between confusion and concentration- frown lines creating caverns between his brows- and gasps.

He rips his headphones out into view from under his hoodie-  _ okay, shit, not deaf  _ \- and exclaims, clearly shocked. “Y-you know ASL.” Said as more of a statement than a question. They’re met with a chorus of groans and shushing noises. Luke winces and points in question to the seat in front of him. Witness hurriedly pulls out the chair for him. 

The masked man lets Luke settle in before interrogating him. “Sorry I just-“ he pauses a beat. “You were trying to sign just now, right? How do you make it look so fluid?” Luke is pleasantly shocked by the man’s sudden enthusiasm. ‘I’m just-“ pauses for another beat, like he’s trying to keep calm, glaring down at his textbook-  _ Beginner’s Guide to ASL  _ \- “I’m not getting it as quickly as I thought I would. God- I’ve been trying for months now but. I. I can’t get past the alphabet.” He rakes his hair back in frustration, pushing his hood back and out of the way. Luke tries not to zero-in on what he could only say was the softest head of curls he’s ever seen, and instead tries to focus on the problem in front of him.

He sighs. “I know what you mean. When I started learning, I was the same way... I get the whole pictorial approach, but it’s hard to understand when you only see one side of it.” 

Luke points toward the letter K on the page. “This is going to sound super embarrassing, but when I started out, I assumed Q was in the same position, just in a different placement.” He then goes to form the sign for Q and rotates his hand, revealing a closed fist over his original demonstration of an upside-down K. “ I mean, I was, y'know, a  _ kid  _ , and atrocious at spatial observation, but. Still.” Luke puffs out a short chuckle and looks down, goes to fiddle his thumbs, embarrassed by the memory. 

When the stranger doesn’t respond he looks up, wary, only to find a pair of stunned, puppy-dog brown eyes staring back at him. If Witness notices his heartbeat picking up, he doesn’t make note of it. Now that Luke has stopped his rambling, he really starts to take in the man sitting opposite from him. While still masked, the solid black cloth covering the bottom half of his face, he holds a charm in his eyes Luke can't find the desire to turn away from. Since they started talking, they’ve both leaned in a fair amount for ease of listening to each other’s hushed tones- and he notices the fine wrinkles tracing around his face. Where at first, he only saw frown lines, he now sees the beginnings of crows feet, signs of more recent reasons for smiling- Luke wants to know what added those lines to his face, what started combatting the hard ones in between his brows.

Luke tries to shake out of his daze at the Witness’ quiet murmuring. He breathes out a “sorry?” Not wanting to disturb the serene air around them. There’s no way he could pretend he heard him the first time but, he thinks he’d still ask for the stranger to repeat his question if he did- just to hear his voice. He looks at where the man’s mouth should be, unbothered that he can’t actually see his lips move.

“I… maybe… -each me?” Witness whispers out once more and absently stretches his forearm out towards Luke’s resting palm. Without hesitation or much forethought to what the question could’ve been, Luke nods his head. The man hangs his head and lets out a short, relieved laugh. Palms his hair once more, and pats his hand. Luke feels like signing. “Thank you… um.” The man pauses, waiting for Luke to respond. He doesn’t, not really. Luke’s already melting into a small puddle, his legs jiggling like fresh jell-o. He blinks slowly, letting out only a quiet hum. He knows there’s a need for him to respond to something but the man’s warm hand is brushing against his and that’s everything his brain can focus on at the moment.

A shrill alarm starts ringing, and the moment is broken. Once more there is a disgruntled crowd of students, a majority of them leaving- either for a class or a quieter spot. The two jump apart, and Witness sheepishly reaches for his phone. “That’s time for me- shit. I’ll be late picking up my son. Guess I’ll see you around…” He waits politely for Luke to react.

“Luke” practically chokes on his own name, his throat is so dry. The masked stranger tries out his name once, twice, and contentedly hums.

“Luke. I’ll see you around, Luke.” The man smiles- Luke can see the crows feet out on full display now- and turns around to leave. Luke doesn’t do much, settling for a slow, dazed sort of wave, as he watches the man leave. He sighs to himself, a sinking feeling that this might be a more finite goodbye than he wants. He turns to his bag, starting to take out loose sheets of paper, full of coursework he’s yet to complete. He’s still got his mind away from the work in front of him when he feels a tap on his shoulder. A grin snakes his way up the sides of his face- Witness is standing over him, holding out a small, empty slip of paper and a pen.

“Um,” he places the slip on top of Luke’s open coursework, carefully to avoid dropping it. “Could I get your number? I can’t guarantee I’ll respond quickly, but we can work out whatever times work best.” He fidgets with his sleeve before bringing his hand up to scratch at his ear. there’s a trace of blush on the tip, barely visible under his re-donned hood. Luke knows he’s going to be replaying that scene on loop for the next month if he doesn’t get a hold of himself.

“Oh, uh,” Luke whispers through a bashful smile, gives a light, breathy giggle. “Yeah I’ll, um, of course.” Luke writes down his number, decides to add  _ the Klutz from the Cafeteria  _ as a quip. Witness studies it, chuckles, nods, starts walking backwards- obviously needing to leave, but he can’t quite find the words he wants to say. He stumbles into someone behind him, pulls onto the poor soul to stop either of them from falling. Turns back to Luke and pushes out a final, rushed ‘cool’ and starts jogging away. He tries to flip a wave over his shoulder and almost does the same exact thing. Luke can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of him. Gives a curt wave back, unsure if Witness even sees it. 

He looks back at his work, the urgency to complete it long gone. He giggles to himself, feels crazy over it. He still isn’t entirely aware of what he signed himself up for, but he’s giddy over the thought of meeting Witness again.

* * *

He realizes far too late, still staring at his blank homework, that he didn't ask for the man’s name. His explicative response is much louder than he intends it to be, receives a fair share of pointed glares.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went back to the last chapter and made a few edits... it's mainly some formatting issues and spelling errors I wanted to touch up on before I really hopped into this bad boy but nothing y'all need to re-read. I did switch the final passage though, I just can't see this version of Luke remembering to text anyone, no matter how hot he thinks they might be... oops.  
> Anyways hope y'all enjoy it! :D
> 
> Content warning- mentions and mild depictions of substance abuse. depiction lasts until the first line break, so if you need to skip scroll until then!

His ears and throat ache as he downs the shot of gin with silent desperation. Luke has always hated shots, the duelling sensations of the smooth liquid and its dry texture burning a path down his throat- both too overwhelming to ever find real joy in. He supposed that was the thing about shots though, kept you at bay from getting used to it, kept you from wanting more.

Luke figures he should try and stop this late-night habit he’s picked up- bolting awake at odd hours, dread seeping from his core, and tumbling his way to the kitchen, acting like what lies in the shot glass can help him forget what plagued him each night. He wipes the sweat off his brow. Sighs. Stares down at the 2 ouncer staring menacingly back at him. He grips his hands on the edge of the counter.

He _really should stop_ this.

He thinks back on all the parties he and Leia snuck their way into, relishing in the act of teenage rebellion- acting like they were normal, if not dumb, kids. Luke recalls all the times his twin had saved him the following mornings, making up a cover story as he spends his time hunched over a toilet, silent strings of love reaching out to her in gratitude. He smiles, wistful for a time where getting trashed on wine coolers was adventurous, when a parentless house was a call for celebration.

Luke feels like a voyeur to his own memories as he lurks around his dark kitchen at 2 am. He refuses to think about what changed within him as he twists open the cap to his favourite gin, levelling the spout with the shot glass in his other hand.

Luke’s stopped by a hand entering his peripheral, reaching for the bottle in his right grip. His breath hitches, almost drops the bottle, slamming it and the glass on the countertop. He flinches away from the figure that has moved far too close for his comfort. Already knowing who joined him. Feeling ashamed regardless.

If there was one thing he couldn’t stand about his family, it was the uniformity of their expressions. There was one that each of his immediate family members reserved for Luke, specifically for situations like this, a solemn reaction to whichever one of Luke’s traumas surfaced. The way Leia peered up at him tonight proved no different. No words were ever combined with the Look, but pools of guilt and pity swirled violently. It was enough to make Luke sick.

He refuses to look at his twin as he hastily screws the cap back on the bottle, nudges it away, tries not to think about his reluctance to complete the task of pushing it out of sight. Luke’s eyes travel to everything around the room other than his sister, taps his knuckles nervously on the counter. Hopes to find something to busy his hands with.

_His plants do look like they need water._

He starts to do just that, but a hand on his shoulder stops him from moving altogether. Luke slowly lets out all the air in his lungs. Doesn’t know if the shakiness is from fear or frustration- and to a greater extent, the cause for either of those feelings. Decided to force it all head-on, as he twists his body to turn towards Leia. He’s enveloped in a tight embrace before he can fully face his twin. Feels she’s shaking almost as much as he is. Ducks his head into the crook of her neck. Feels the pain slowly seep out of him.

After a beat, he goes to pat her head- he’s unsure if the sign of comfort is for her or himself. He feels Leia sniffle more than he hears her, and when she pulls away to look at him, her eyes are unexpectedly glassy.

“Do you want to talk about this?” Her voice is barely louder than the hum of the fridge behind her.

Luke sighs. “Not really”

“Can we try again in the morning? Please?” He wants to smirk, quip back, _it’s already morning._ Stops short at her open concern, her desperation. He can’t bring himself to verbalize anymore. Settles for a nod. She mirrors him, giving a small, sad smile. Strokes her thumb down the side of his forehead, palm cupping his cheek. His smile, though small, grows wider.

Her swatting is light- much more than usual- when he goes to strike her wrist with his tongue.

* * *

He leaves before they can talk about it.

Luke tries not to feel guilty, tells himself the last thing he needs is a non-intervention about his non-problem. He couldn’t bring himself to talk about his nightmares- traumas, memories, whatever word you could fill in the blank with- with anyone, let alone the questionable coping mechanisms which, while admittedly unhealthy, was only occasional in nature.

He fumbles around with his book bag, needing his wallet but not wanting to commit to removing his bag completely from his shoulders. Luke had pointedly avoided going near the cafeteria today, sinking feeling that his twin would definitely try to pay him a visit. He instead elected to grab an armful of various snacks at the bookstore before making the trek to his hiding place in the back of the library. He grunts as he finally retrieves his wallet, grins sheepishly at the cashier- which, _if looks could kill_ \- and dumps his array of junk food onto the counter. Time was of the essence today, not nutrition. He bends down to scoop everything back into his arms, nods at the unamused cashier, and tries his hardest to speed walk to the library without dropping anything.

He makes it about halfway before he fails.

It took him by surprise to hear his ringtone shrilling out at full volume, notifying everyone in a 5ft radius that Luke had a call. He grumbles, kneeling down to retrieve the discarded spoils, simultaneously reaching for his phone. He could’ve _sworn_ he left it on silent this morning, wanting to give a valid excuse for avoiding Leia’s calls. He shoves the last snack into his bag as he reads the screen, grimacing at the contact- no name, no one he knew. Luke assumes it’s another spam, answers anyways, electing to put the other end on speaker while he mutes himself. He waits for the automated voice- a queue to end the call. The other end is silent for a beat, then comes a hesitant, “Luke?”

He gasps, scrambles to engage with the man on the other line.

“Hey! Um-” Luke looks around, half expecting his new… friend? study buddy? his Witness to pop out of the bushes. He adjusts his bag, resumes his trek to the library. He giggles a little, slightly out of breath from how fast he’s walking. “Hi there. I was wondering when you’d get back to me.” he hears a small wince and a grin makes its way on his face.

“Yeah, sorry, I got caught up with work for a bit. I promise I don't usually take this long to. Um. Respond.” Luke hears a couple of tapping noises on the other end and a soft _‘hey buddy, what’s up’_ from the man, sound distant as he moves the phone away to engage with… someone else. Luke stops walking, just barely reaching his destination, holds his breath to try and listen in. No luck. After a few quiet grunts and hums, the man’s voice returns, a throat-clearing grunt crackling loud through the receiver.

“Sorry," Witness quips, “I’m dropping off my kid right now. I’m. Trying to head over to campus for a bit and-” the man pauses, there’s a car door opening on the other line “I was wondering if you had a minute. To meet up.” It sounds like he’s struggling- LUke’s not sure if it's to string words together or wrap up his end of things. Luke’s finding it hard not to think of it all as incredibly endearing. He hums to himself, contemplating times. Looks at his phone. He’s got 2 hours until his next class. Perfect.

He gives a nod, though he knows that won't translate over the phone. “Yeah, I think I can do that. It’s kind of great, actually, you caught me at just the right time.” 

The other man lets out a short huff. “Okay. Uh, cool, that’s- yeah that’s perfect.” He clears his throat once more. “Okay. yeah. I’ll, um, see you in about.” clicks his tongue a couple times. “20 minutes?” 

“Sounds like a plan, Stan.” Luke cringes at the words that've just left his mouth. “Uhh,” he coughs, trying to ignore the quiet laugh on the other line. “Let me know if you have a specific spot in mind. If not, I'll be at the library.”

“No, no. uh. Library sounds good. Listen, buddy- uh, Luke-” Witness sucks in a breath, Luke hears a soft _‘c’mere kid. I'll see you in a bit. love you’_ a quick shuffle of the phone against fabric. “Luke, I. Thank you. Again. You don’t know what this means to me.” Luke’s chest seizes, tugs, stutters out a breath.

“Of course, man. Really, it’s no problem.” Luke mumbles out. Scratches at his chin. His ears feel hot.

“Still.” The man replies, “Thank you.” It’s silent for a bit, just short of too long. The man sucks in another breath. “Okay. I’ll um. See you in a bit?”

“Okay,” Luke replies.

“Alright”

“Yeah”

“... cool”

“Cool.” Luke parrots. The Witness chuckles. Luke’s pulled to his senses- forehead warm as he stutters. “Um! Yeah, uh. Yeah. Bye.”

The man laughs again. “Bye, Luke.”

Luke chews at his lips, as he stares down at the call ended screen. There’s no one around but he still worries about making a scene. He's _far_ too giddy for such an impromptu study date. 

* * *

Their first meeting- Luke officially knows it’s more of a tutor session than anything else- goes exactly how he expected. Awkwardly.

They’ve spent almost an hour and a half trying to review the basics, like Luke remembers learning, but it’s going at a snail pace. The masked man, while good at the hand placements and contortions, has a tendency to mix up simple things, numbers for letters. It’s a common problem- evidence of years with the casual signalling that people accustomed to talking use, interfering with the deviations that ASL rules on. While the mistakes are small, the man is still clearly affected by it, frustration evident as the slip-ups grow more frequent.

Luke bites at the inside of his lip, trying to think of a useful, alternative approach. When it clicks, he leans forward, hushed, so as not to disturb the others studying around them.

“Um. If you don’t mind me asking, why do you want to learn it? ASL?” Witness looks up at him, apparent that he didn’t expect that question. The man shuffles around in his seat. Gathers his thoughts.

“My son.” The man sighs out. “His nonverbal. Been that way since he came to me. He can still hear, he goes to speech therapy to help with communication problems. If he needs something, he’ll write it down so I can read it. I want to be able to talk with him, though. Hold a conversation. Ask him about his day, his needs, his problems. I want him to feel normal, feel loved.” He fidgets with his pen, bouncing the dull end on his notebook. “I want him to feel comfortable around me.” Luke practically shutters over the power behind those words. Stares at the man across him in pure awe.

“That's-” Luke starts. Even with the mask on, he can tell the man is chewing at his lips, nerves present across his brow. “That’s very kind of you.”

The man looks at Luke now, like he wants to say something, but decides against it-settling for a slow, curt nod as he looks back to his notebook. He doesn't seem too convinced. Luke doesn't comment on the tears welling up in the man’s eyes, nerves picking at him. Worried he’s spoken out of turn, struck a sour chord in the man. Luke checks his phone for the time. Dies a little inside.

“Shit. I.” he tsks, reaches for his bag. “I have to head to class. I’ll. um. I’ll come up with a more concrete plan by our next session. Don’t hesitate to text or call if you have any questions. Alright?” The man doesn’t really reply. Staring at the wall just behind Luke. Luke sighs, he doesn’t want to leave, the man clearly needs some comfort. A lack of camaraderie keeps him from doing more, but. He places a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Hey.” Luke’s voice is softer this time, not wanting to come off too strong. The man faces him, but doesn't bother making eye contact. “I can't say I know a lot of people trying to learn. But the last time I heard that my friend was trying to make up for a shitty pair of parents. Trust me, man. You’re a good father. Your son’s lucky to have you” He sighs. Drops his hand before he oversteps his boundaries any more. “Have a good day. Best of luck.” Makes a quiet exit.

He feels eyes boring into his back as he walks off.

He makes it to the doors when he gets another call. The number isn’t saved yet, but he knows who it is this time around. Hastily answers, “hello?”

He hears nothing other than a breathy _‘thank you’_ before the man hangs up.

He smiles.

* * *

Luke realizes for a _second_ time that he didn't ask for a name. He swears, gaping at the 'new contact’ screen on his phone. Tries thinking of a fun placeholder until he finds out a real name. Comes up with one he knows would take a bit of explaining. Cackles maniacally at the thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhhh sorry for the angst? I sat down to write something silly but all that came out for a hot sec was Big Sad... oops. Y'all thank you so much for engaging, I was not expecting this to get any attention but I'm so excited to write more on this! My little brainstorm worms are working overtime to draw a nice story out of this!


	3. CHapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy this is so much later than I was hoping for, work's been kicking my ass lately TAT, but hopefully the length of this chapter helps make up for it! Bad boy took up 9 pages out of the 19 currently residing in my google doc
> 
> ANYways... enjoy my attempts at worldbuilding and plot-thickening, idk where we are but we'll truck on through as if I do...  
> Obi-Wan/Old Ben's dialogue in this sounds best if you pretend he's one of the Beatles, I'm sorry to say (don't know how else to explain it)

Luke continues to avoid his sister after their kitchen chat. It’s mostly incidental, but he knows there’s only so many times he can continue with this before Leia catches up with his antics. After a strenuous week trife with close calls, Luke isn’t sure what to expect from his twin. Not from a lack of understanding, though- he’s aware of the _long_ list of things she could do, each thought as terrifying (if not more) than the next. 

So when he sees her lounging with a false calm on the living room couch, radiating _I’m-acting-like-I-don’t-see-you-to-lure-you-in-and- strike-the-moment-you-lower-your-defences,_ Luke takes a quick moment to make peace with his sins and hope whatever afterlife he’s destined for is kind on his soul- because he already knows he’s a dead man walking.

Despite all the mental preparation for disaster, Luke still finds himself stunned at Leia’s sucker-punch of an icebreaker.

“Who the fuck is _HANDY DILF_?”

Now, Luke’s combat skills might be a little rusty, but desperation to get his phone out of Leia’s grasp courses through his veins a bit quicker than anything else trying to resist what he’s attempting. Unfortunately, his lunge/jump/somersault tactic proved useless, his neglected acrobatic skills and Leia’s weird instinct wins out. He lays on the floor in defeat, his twin towering over him, dangling his phone just out of reach. He dejectedly sighs, pouts up at his dear, _sweet_ sister, makes grabby hands, hopes Leia will pity him enough to surrender his damn phone to him. She snorts at the sight, agonizingly slowly lowers the phone to him, smirks in a way that’s too dangerous to be comforting, and then-

Luke squawks at the impact of his phone, which Leia had unceremoniously dropped onto his defenceless face. He quickly rolls over, feels feverish looking at the small list of notifications left by the aforementioned _‘HANDY DILF.’_ He sighs, already knowing he’ll need to change the contact name for his study buddy, the fun of it all thoroughly drained. He unlocks his phone, reads the messages, tries to ignore his sister hovering over his shoulder. Holds back a dreamy sigh at the thought of a potential tutor session, the notion of undivided attention from Witness making him feel like a teen working through first love. He goes to reply to _HANDY DILF_ ’s text (Do you have any free time today?) without any hesitation, pulling up a photo of his full schedule. Gets a choice smack upside the head from his still hovering, lunatic of a sister.

“ _Luke._ ” if she wasn’t pissed before, she was now. Blowing off a serious discussion to meet up with an unknown guy- he might as well have just called her a bitch and said he didn’t like her. “What makes you think you have time to just _fuck around_ with some guy-”

Luke groans, “ Leia, I _promise you_ that’s not what’s going on. I’m trying to teach him.” she doesn’t look an ounce convinced. He glowers, “I’m _studying_ to be a teacher, how am I supposed to teach anyone anything without _learning_ how to? I need experience.” Her nose flares. _She didn't take the bait._

“Oh, and it’s completely normal to put _DILF_ as a _student’s_ contact info?” Luke rolls his eyes, thumb already on the ‘edit contact’ button. Leia holds her face in her hands, muffled laughs sounding more like sobs. “Please,” she pleads, slowly, carefully choosing her words. “ _Please_ just tell me he isn’t married or something, Luke.” 

Luke sputters, officially offended at the implication. He bluffs, “I’m just trying to help a _single_ father who wants to communicate with his _nonverbal_ son. I spent all that time learning how to sign, I might as well put it to good use, _right_?” And if Leia tries to hide her surprise, she’s too flabbergasted to succeed in masking it. 

“Is- I.” she struggles to make a quick comeback. Murmurs out, “Are you okay with that?” Luke sighs. He hoped that would get her to drop the conversation altogether, but only succeeded to drive it to the very place he spent all week trying to avoid. He shoots up, hurries to his discarded bookbag hopes if he runs fast enough Leia’s stupor will last long enough that she won’t stop him.

“Look, this isn’t- we’re not,” Luke thinks of all the excuses he could use, his window running out quickly. He sighs “If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late to class. Even if I run-” he’s out of time, Leia is already squeezing between him and the door.

“I can drive.” _The look_ bores straight to his core.

Luke gulps.

* * *

Leia definitely meant to interrogate him on the ride to campus, but ends up spending the trip narrowly avoiding multiple minor collisions. While it wasn’t exactly a _quiet_ drive, Luke didn’t have to open up about his non-problems so he takes it as a win. He curtly removes his hand from its tight grasp on the _oh-shit_ handle, nods at his sister, goes to leave their death trap of a car and- nope, it’s locked. 

He hits the button as silently as he can, reaches for the door handle and- it locks again. Luke winces. Turns to Leia. _The look_ is back. He sighs, crosses his arms. Prepares for another lecture. Decided to stare at the hands gripping the steering wheel and pointedly _not_ at his sister. Just to avoid _the look_.

“We’re talking about this. Tonight. We-” Leia sighs. Drums her fingers on the wheel. “We can’t keep putting this off, Luke. I just- I can’t keep pretending like I'm not worried, okay? None of us can. Not like you. It’s been, what, how many years? Since-”

“Five.” Luke interrupts Leia’s rambling. “Five years.” He slumps against the seat, squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t need to look at his sister to know the guilt resting on her face. He sighs, knows today will be too long to enjoy. “Okay.” he breaks out. “I- we’ll talk about it. Tonight.” He grabs his bag. “I’ll, um, pick up dinner, then?”

Leia’s warm grin replies in replace of words.

* * *

Luke’s classes meld into one long, laborious task that fails to distract him from his woes. Between the Leia Situation and wondering if he’s being stood up for a study date _(don’t call it that),_ his mental focus is at full capacity. He plays off the constant phone checks in class as if he’s reassuring himself that his phone is correctly recording the lecture, rather than hoping he’ll have an update on Witness.The last text his masked friend sent was over four hours ago, well over his usual reply rate, and Luke feels neglected. He sighs as he hears the mass shuffle of papers and chairs scraping- signalling the end of class. He grabs his notebook, stops his recording, shoves his supplies into his bag as aggressively as he can muster, hoping to relieve some frustration. 

He decides to play nice and let everyone out before him, scrolls through his contacts in the meantime. If Witness wasn’t going to respond, he might as well cut his losses, and prepare for what he’s been dreading all week. His hands press buttons on his phone without his focus, muscle memory taking over as he hits ‘call.’ The line picks up on the third ring.

 _“_ Thank you for calling _Varos & Vormur, _ what can I help you with today?” Luke grins at the familiar phrase.

“Hey, Uncle Ben. How’s the shop?”

“Luke, my boy! So lovely to hear from you.” There’s a pregnant pause from Old Ben. “What did you do now?”

Luke grimaces. “I might’ve screwed up talking with Leia this morning…” Luke scratches at his nape. 

There’s a sudden jolt of laughter from Old Ben. “Say no more, son. I know just the tick. Erm. Should I tack on a third meal for Han or is it just the two of you today?”

“Probably not, I haven’t heard from him in months.” Luke feels a prick of guilt for not checking in on his friend.

Ben tsks on the other line. “I’ll whip up a portion. Just in case.” Luke puffs out a chuckle- Old Ben and his weird intuition.

“Sounds good, Uncle Ben. I shouldn’t be too long but-”

“My boy, take all the time you need. I know you don't have the car today.” Luke gaped at his phone. _Fucking crazy intuition_.

He scoffs. “And how do _you_ know I’m not driving over right now?”

“You better _not_ be driving while you’re talking to me, for one,” Luke winces. He hears Old Ben huff on the other end. “I can hear traffic on your end, assumed you must be out on a jog.”

Luke breathes out a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was family members spying on him as he tried to live his life. He chuckles out, “Okay, Ben. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon, Luke”

* * *

There was light foot traffic in and around _Varos & Vormur _ when Luke arrived at the shop, much to his pleasure. When his godfather first opened the shop- in memory of his late wife and her love of cooking- a large portion of his family worried about the business. While Old Ben’s cooking was undoubtedly delicious, the traditional Sundari cuisine wasn’t quite popular amongst the Corusanti. Though, while it wasn’t widely known, Luke couldn’t deny business was good enough for Old Ben. 

He smiles as he opens the door for a small group of exiting customers, the smell of spices and fresh herbs filling his nostrils. Old Ben looks up, starts to jut around the counter to greet him, stops as quickly as he started. Pats down his person, as if he was trying to jog his memory. He pulls out a paper, looks in surprise, and runs back into the kitchen. Luke chuckles, shakes his head, makes a quick study of the decor, looking for anything that might’ve been added since he last visited. He’s glad to see the shop is still as charming as he remembers.

Luke feels his phone buzz, scrambles to check it, hoping it’s Witness. He hurries to open the message, not bothering to check who’s trying to talk. When he unlocks his phone, he stares in shock at a photo of himself, standing in the middle of Old Ben’s shop. It’s captioned with a short ‘Boo. lol’. He furrows his brows, spins around to see the culprit. Finds relief that it is, in fact, Witness, and not just some creep who knows his number. 

Witness waves at him sheepishly, motions for him to come over. Luke brings up a chair, both sides of the booth filled by both the man and a small child sat across him. The child peers up at Luke, unadulterated curiosity occupying his large, dark eyes. The kid’s glasses magnify the look to an impossible degree, toeing the line between adorable and unsettling. Luke decides it's definitely cute, nods his head in a silent greeting, hoping to come off as friendly. The child ducks his head down, suddenly shy. Luke giggles, turns his head to the masked man. 

“Well. Fancy meeting you here.” Luke quips.

The other man chuckles. “It really is. Not a lot of people know about this place. Makes it feel like a special little secret.” Luke nods in agreeance.

“It helps to know the owner, I guess.” Luke shrugs, tries to play off the shameless brag as a casual statement. The man stares back at him in disbelief.

“You know Kenobi?” it comes out more as an accusatory statement than a question.

Luke sniggers, shifts in his seat. Points to a framed photo on the wall, placed above the register. “Don’t look, but that, there, is absolutely a picture of me at the zoo.” He remembers the photo well- him, Leia and their mother wearing matching ponchos and bucket hats, all posed on top of a bronze rhino. Pained smiles for all restaurant-goers to enjoy. He’s fond of the memories attached to that picture, but hates the thought of baby-Luke being so publicly accessible. Nerves sink in more and more as the man continues to study him, as if he's gauging Luke’s credibility.

Luke realizes far too late the mistake he’s made enticing the other man at a chance at a baby photo, sees the cogs turning in his head before he knows what they’re turning for. His adrenaline kicks in as the man shoots up from the booth, prepared to make a dash to the register. Luke shoots out an arm to try and block him, fingers grasping on a belt loop in a blind panic. The man’s far too strong for a single arm, though, too determined. 

Luke is pulled out of his seat by the other man’s momentum- tumbling to the floor with a loud yelp.

The man spins around, alarmed by the sound and Luke’s graceless fall. Lets a shocked guffaw rip free from deep in his sternum. The once quiet restaurant is drowned in a sea of laughs shared between the floor-bound Luke, the masked man, and his equally masked kid. The man bends down to help reorient Luke, giving his condolences between borderline painful snorts. 

“Are y-” the man muscled through a snigger, “Are you okay?”

Luke giggles, slightly out of breath from the wind being knocked out of him. “Oh, yeah, peachy. Floor needed a wipe down anyways.” He coughs out. 

The pair catch their breaths after a beat- the child, though, is still stuck in a fit of giggles. Luke feels oddly content that his blunder gifted such joy to someone else. _Maybe he should go into comedy._

The man chuckles, slightly menacingly, leaving Luke’s side to scoop the boy up. Practically ragdolls the kid to blow a raspberry to the boy’s cheek, tickling his sides relentlessly. The kid shrieks with laughter, wrestling to escape the torment. The man relieves his son of the attack, balancing the boy on his hip. Ruffles his son’s hair.

“You liked that kid?” The man smooths out his son’s ruffled outfit. Leans in to murmur, “Feel a little better now, buddy?” The child shyly nods his head, nuzzles into the man’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his father’s neck. Luke’s heart warms at the sight. The man pets the boy’s head, absentmindedly twists his torso back and forth, bouncing in a rocking motion to further soothe the child. Turns his head slightly towards Luke. “Sorry I didn’t get back to you today. His teacher called me around lunchtime. Said that Grogu here was having a bit of a rough day.’ Asked me to pick him up early.” 

The child shifts in the man’s arms, turning to peer back at Luke. Luke smiles, goes to sign a more formal introduction- _HI, GROGU. I'M LUKE. IT’S NICE TO MEET YOU._

The kid’s eyebrows disappear behind his hairline, gapes up at Luke upon recognition. Scrambles his arms free from his lax hold on his father to sign excitedly back at Luke, rushing through the motions to talk about anything his small hands could form. Luke chuckles at Grogu’s excitement lets him list off various things the kid felt was important to share- his favourite animal _(frog)_ , his favourite toy _(a stuffed frog)_ , his favourite TV show _(The Kermit Show)_ \- the masked man informs Luke that Grogu is “going through a frog phase” _(as he should)._

Luke lets the kid sign his little heart out, interjecting every once in a while to engage with him, until he gets bored and stares at his father. Slaps a hand down onto his forehead. The man chuckles, shakes his head, manoeuvring the kid so he straddles the back of his neck. Grogu wiggles his legs around, enjoying the elevated view atop his father’s shoulders, already dipping into his own little world. The man slowly leans in toward Luke, to not disturb Grogu’s private adventure.

“He likes to be tall.” Luke giggles behind a hand, enamoured at the cuteness of it all, nods in agreeance with the child.

Grogu switches his attention to the kitchen, twisting his torso to get a good look, slaps his father’s head to garner his attention. The trio tune into Old Ben returning with two to-go baggies in hand.

“Ah-hah! Here we are. Mr. Djarin,” Ben drum rolls with his tongue, passing off the first bag to the masked man, who bows in performative gratitude. “And… Luke.” a loving yet disapproving gaze pairs with Ben’s heartless dump of luke’s food into his waiting arms.” Let Leia know I gave her- _only_ her- some extra curry, lord knows you need all the help you can get.” Ben pats his shoulder, feigns compassion, winks. “Let’s hope for your sake she doesn’t kill you _before_ you plead your case.”

Luke’s shoulders slump upon remembering why Luke came to Ben’s in the first place. The old man smiles at the other two stragglers, gives Grogu a small wave, heads back to the counter to answer calls. Luke sighs wistfully as reality settles back in. He finds himself wanting to return to just a minute ago- to the domestic bliss of watching the other man and his son- instead of thinking about what chaos is waiting for him at home. ( _And maybe if he plays pretend with them longer, forgets hard enough, it’ll cease to exist.)_

Mr. Djarin- as Old Ben so ceremoniously called out- points to the bag Luke was cradling. “Your, uh,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “Your girlfriend has good taste.” Luke stares up at him, brows furrowed in confusion. He gasps upon realization, flushes to a bright, cherry red. Stutters through a reply

“Oh- Oh _God_ no, Leia-” he chuckles, fidgets with the handles, nerves forcing his brain to work a mile a minute. “ Leia’s my- I’m not- she’s. My sister.” 

Djarin chokes on his spit. Coughs out an ‘ _I’m so sorry_.’ Tries to find something to do with his hands. Gives up and returns to gripping his son’s legs, clears his throat. Looks awkwardly between Luke and the floor. “Then that girl you were with in the cafeteria-”

“Yeah.” Luke cuts him off. Sighs inwardly. He knows where this is going, well versed in the collective confusion people express upon knowing him and Leia are related. “And before you ask, no- she’s not... _available_ .” refrains from rolling his eyes. He would never know what was more humiliating- people assuming they were dating, then assuming he’d play matchmaker on her behalf, or knowing that (after a drunk conversation with Han ages ago) the reason why people ask in the first place is that people think Leia is _out of his league_. 

Sure, he might not be ‘the hot one’ between him and his sister, but he was still _hot._

The man seems surprised at Lukes comment. “Oh, um. O-okay.” He shrugs dismissively. Luke starts to give him a questioning once over, but his thoughts are interrupted by Ben- still lurking behind the counter.

“Luke, my boy, you’d better pick up the pace if you want to get home soon.” He looks pointedly at Djarin- “It’s not a short walk, and I’m sure your sister wouldn’t like soggy bread with her curry.” 

Djarin turns his attention back to Luke. “Did you walk here?” He asks, incredulously. 

“Uh… yeah?” Luke doesn’t really know how to reply.

“From Campus?”

“Yes…?” Djarin stares Luke down. Glances at his shoes. Looks out the window at the setting sun, looks back at Luke. His eyes pace around Luke’s face, staring silently in consideration. After a beat, Djarin resolutely nods.

“Let me drive you home.” Nods his head toward the minivan parked outside the storefront. Luke squeaks out a weak protest, trying to explain that _he’s fine, his place is relatively close, the sun is still up, there’s no need-_

“ _Luke_ ” Old Ben manages to make his name sound like a hex. “Your sister. Needs food.” Luke’s mouth snaps shut at Old Ben’s coded urging to accept the man’s proposal. 

He insists on holding both bags of food on the way out.

* * *

The ride home is silent, though not uncomfortably so- a stark contrast from the ride Luke got from his sister earlier that day. Grogu sleeps soundly to the sounds of the car, tuckered out from the events of his day. The radio plays quietly, acting as a buffer for the lack of conversation. Luke sends a text to Leia, letting her know he’s arriving shortly. Scrolls through his recent messages, checking if there was anyone he’d forgotten. He’s so engrossed in his phone, he doesn’t notice the car’s stopped- or the man snooping over his shoulder.

“Who’s Jim Carrey?” Luke startles, nervously giggling- _that name change was very well-timed_.

“W- um. It’s” Luke’s voice is high and quiet as he tries to explain himself. Tries not to word vomit out _the other name_ “Like, uh, _The Mask_ ? Jim Carrey?” He shrinks under the other man’s gaze. Draws a circle in the air around the man’s mask. “ _Get it?_ ” Luke squeaks out.

After a beat, the man snorts. Shakes his head slowly, turning away so Luke couldn't see his face. His shoulders bounce in a silent laugh, as if he was reluctant to let Luke know he thought it was funny. “That might be the worst nickname I’ve ever been given.”

Luke gives a breathy chuckle, “Oh, so this happens often enough for that?” Luke prods, gently shoving Djarin’s shoulder. “You’re just hoping if you never say your name you’ll get something fun out of it?” 

Djarin guffaws at the thought. “Um. Never really thought about it like that” He scratches at his nose, cheeks tinted rosey and adorable. He rubs his hands down his thighs, wiping off nervous sweat from his palms. Luke tries not to follow the motion too closely, tries not to think too hard about it. Tries not to think about other places the man can rub those hands down. What those hands, large and warm, might feel like as they _explore_ -

Luke’s breath is gone when the man speaks up. “It’s Din.”

Luke gasp is audible- because he forgot to breathe. ( _Definitely not because he instantly falls in love with how a name sounds like.)_ “Din.” he repeats.

And it’s like he’s suddenly switched bodies as he watches Din react. No sound comes from the other man, but there's a movement in Din’s chest, like he can’t seem to get enough air. Luke shudders under the man’s gaze, he’s at a loss for words. He can’t handle the way the man stares at him, can’t hold that gaze. 

Can’t help but wonder.

Maybe Din thought the same as he had- _maybe even felt the same._ Kicks himself for thinking it, getting his hopes up for such a fictitious desire. Shakily breaths out as he returns to Din’s unwavering stare. Holds out a palm as an offering. “Well, Din, I’m Luke” He smirks. “It’s lovely to meet you.” 

Din breaths out a quiet laugh. Grasps Luke's

hand. “Hi, Luke. Love to get to know you.” And Luke’s breath hitches again, knees feeling weak. That look has returned, _though did it ever leave?_

Luke silently thanks the sky for already setting the sun, sparing Luke’s flush from making itself known- along with his rapidly rising tenderness for the other man. He blinks hard, needs to make sure he isn’t dreaming. Smiles warmly as he opens his eyes, taking in Din’s soft brown ones.

He hums out a quiet ‘ _thanks for the ride,’_ receives an even quieter ‘ _my pleasure_ ,’ slowly steps out of the car, to-go bag in tow. The walk from the street to his home feels light and easy, feels weightless as he spins to wave a final goodbye to Din’s clunker of a car. Feels every ounce a lovestruck teen as he heads inside.

* * *

When he opens the door, Leia's standing on the other side, as expected. Under normal circumstances, she’d probably have her arms tightly wound across her chest, like she was rudely interrupted from her beauty sleep. Tonight though, her arms are braced away from herself, face pointedly expressionless. Hands placed on the handles of a wheelchair. Luke hesitantly pans his gaze down, once again terrified at the accuracy Old Ben’s intuition possessed.

The man smiles back up at his petrified frame, a smugness only Han could possess. Han nods his head up to Luke. “Hey, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know anything about Mandalorian food, but the thought of Obi-Wan and Satine traditional cuisine? Bonding over it? Immaculate. Searched food names and relations for 2 hours before I came but with the restaurant name, and it checked out on Wookiepedia so I ran with it.
> 
> If you have questions or concerns, please leave your name and number after the beep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I just want to mention this is my first fanfiction, and I’m not, by any means, a writer. This isn’t beta’d at all, it’s a very quick, self-indulgent type of deal. I’m sure the characterizations are a bit off, but I’m here for a good time not a long time lol. Please feel free to leave comments, questions, critiques, and whatever else you want me to add! :)
> 
> P.S: the little bit of ASL work is not even amateur level, it’s mainly based off my experiences with learning and the limited knowledge I retained


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